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Life After Death/Issue 19
It had been a month since Alvin struck back; a month since Bill, Walden, and Drake fell victim to his wrath. With nowhere to go, the group wandered the everlasting fields and forests; no real goal, just trying to survive. They had recently crossed paths with one of Alvin's communities, but luckily, they hadn't been recognized as the people who waged war on their main camp. Perhaps it was because of how much they had changed, or perhaps Alvin just hadn't informed about what happened. It didn't really matter, all that mattered is they had to give up what little supplies they had left. They were allowed to keep the clothes on their backs, their weapons, and whatever ammo they could fit inside them. The rest was taken, and they were escorted through the community. The group was broken, they hardly spoke to each other, and when they did, it was lifeless small talk. There are some stains you can never wash out, and what Alvin had done to them was one of them. Their plan to move on to the military base was washed away and forgotten with no idea where it was, and no working vehicle to take them there. Forced to scavenge wrecked campsites, looted stores, and emptied houses for what little they could find, the group's dynamic was strong. They were able to cooperate with each other, which was the only positive thing after all that had happened to them. They were scarred, each and every one of them. Both internally and externally. The group came across a tattered campground in the forest. There were still some tents in some of the campsites, and the main office was empty. They decided they would spend as long as they could there, for it would eventually fall as every place they attempted to survive in before. They sat around a fire in one of the campsites during the cold night. They were tired, hungry, cold, and distraught; still hardly speaking. It was hard for them to come to terms with what had happened, and even harder for them to forgive themselves. "We should sleep," Eric said, breaking the long silence. His hair had grown out quite a bit, and he had a bit of stubble. The cut that he had received when Alvin had beat on him had scarred, leaving a long, dark line under his left eye. He wore a dark green leather jacket over his red shirt, and his machete still remained to his side. Andre nodded his head as he stepped on the dim fire with his foot, putting it out. Andre hadn't changed a whole lot. His hair had grown a bit, but was covered by his tan baseball cap, and he now wore a blue shirt under his signature green jacket. Dolph walked over to a small, blue tent across the dirt road that he had claimed earlier. His hair and beard had grown a bit, and he wore a black and red striped shirt under his black jacket. He had grown somewhat distant from the rest of his group after learning of his sister's likely demise. It had torn a hole inside him, and the whole couldn't be filled by anything. Morgan and Brie had grown close since they both lost someone they loved, and formed a strong friendship. They were still very miserable over what happened, but having someone to talk to helped them out. Gregory had grown a bit of a beard and wore a blue shirt with a gray stripe across it. He was one of the few things keeping the group together by keeping people in line. Emily hadn't changed much, either. She now wore her hair in a ponytail, and spent a lot of her time making sure Devon was doing good. She cared a lot for the poor kid. Devon now had a full beard of stubble, but wore the same clothes he had before. They were memories of his life before this all, memories of his mother, memories of his friends, and memories of Leslie. He refused to let those memories go. His fingers had also recently finished healing, but his hand was still a little sore, so he continued using his left hand, which he had grown to become quite competent with. ---- Brie attempted to fall asleep, but she couldn't; she kept tossing and turning. This had been a frequent problem for her. Her whole life, she relied on her father to keep her safe. She wasn't the strongest or most independant person, and having her father - her guardian - torn away from her put her in a tough situation. Having enough of the rolling around in the tent, Brie sat up, opened the tent door, and walked outside. She walked across the dirt road to the fire she was sitting by only hours before, and found Eric, who was sitting on a chair, staring at the stars. "Couldn't sleep either?" he asked without so much as glimpsing at her. He had heard the zip of the zipper and her soft footsteps. "No," she replied. "I keep thinking about my dad." "As much as I disliked the guy...it just feels so weird without him. Honestly, him causing trouble kind of entertained me." Eric chuckled, and looked back at Brie, who had sat beside him. "I know he was an asshole, especially to you, but...he really admired you. He didn't like to admit it, but he thought you were a good leader." "That's...touching. I don't really think I've done a good job." "You have, you've kept this group together." "But I got people killed. Your dad, Drake, Walden...all of the people we killed back there...it's my fault. If I had just swallowed my pride and drove around, we wouldn't be in this situation. We'd probably be at that military place Gregory was talking about." "It wasn't your fault. We all wanted those people dead. What they were doing...it was inhuman. It was no one person's fault." "I don't think of it that way...I'm the leader here, I'm the one making the calls. I lead our people in there...and got them killed. As much as you'd like to object, that's on me. Fuck, this job is stressful as hell. I don't like having to make all the calls...I never was good at decision making." "You're a good leader, though. We only lost people because Alvin struck back. If he hadn't, we would have survived, and that's because you lead us to victory. Your plan worked...at first." "Yeah, 'at first'. I had my blade in him...if I had just stabbed a little deeper..." "Don't think about the what ifs." Eric sighed. "Whatever, believe what you want to believe. I still consider it my fault." Eric pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lighter from his jacket pocket. He opened the pack, took one out, lit it, and put it in his mouth. He took a puff, and looked over at Brie, who was staring at the package. "What...you want one?" he asked in a playful manner. "Hell yeah," she replied with a small smile. "Bill probably wouldn't-" Eric noticed Brie's smile fade. "Sorry, I shouldn't of-" "No, it's fine." Eric passed the package to her. She took one out, put it in her mouth, and handed the package back to Eric while he lit the smoke for her. She took a puff and started to cough. "Not much of a smoker, huh?" "No, this is actually my first." "And your last, don't want you getting addicted to this shit, especially now. The smoke will draw the rotters. Hell, it's bad enough that we're smoking right now." The two sat there in silence for the next ten minutes. Once they finished their cigarettes, Brie stood from her chair. "I'm going to try to sleep again, goodnight," she said. "'Night," Eric replied as he leaned his head back and returned to staring at the stars. ---- The next morning, the group gathered around the firepit in silence as they did the night before. Gregory and Morgan cooked rice on the fire. The weather was progressively getting colder and the red and yellow leaves started to fall off of the trees. Andre looked to his right, and through the trees, he saw something. He immediately recognized the familiar gray, rotting skin. "Shit," he said as he stood up and grabbed his fire axe. "What?" Devon asked. "What do you see?" Dolph asked as he sat up and grabbed his crowbar. "Rotters," Andre replied. "And a lot of them." "The smoke must have drawn them," Gregory added. Morgan got up and picked her bow up off of the ground. Her, Dolph, and Andre started fending them off as the others grabbed their weapons. "There's got to be at least a hundred of them," Morgan said as she shot an arrow through a rotter's head. "Seriously?" Emily remarked as she pulled out her pistol and started firing. The remaining fifty or so rotters started surrounding the group. "Shit, I'm out," Devon said as he pulled the empty magazine out of his pistol. "Me too," Emily said. "What the hell are we going to do?" Suddenly, they heard multiple shots fire. Two rotters fell to the ground, as one more was decapitated by a blond man in black armor wielding a sword. Two other men with pistols ran up behind the first. One was fairly tall and somewhat skinny with long, dirty blond hair, handlebar mustache, a blue hat, gray jacket, and red bowtie. The other was a shorter, buffer black man with short, black hair, goatee, black hat and leather jacket, and a teal shirt underneath. The two men continued to shoot the rotters while the first slashed and hacked at them. When they were all dead, the three men walked up to the group. The man in armor stepped in front, and said. "Hello, I'm Ike, and these are Bart and Ryan. Uh, don't mean to be rude, but what the hell are you doing in this shithole of a camp?" Credits * * * * * * * * * * * Deaths *None Trivia *First appearance of . *First appearance of . *First appearance of .